


Unfinished Work

by Creya



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: A bit of humor hopefully, Angst, F/M, I just know it, Vignettes, this is going to grow out of control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 22:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creya/pseuds/Creya
Summary: The day is won, the strike is over, but the story doesn't end there. There's business to attend to...A collection of stories accounting for our heroes in the aftermath of their victory.





	1. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "New Mexico had called his name in every quiet moment. Now there was just silence."
> 
> Jack had always assumed he knew what life had in store for him. But can he admit that sometimes it's better to be wrong?

Jack was unsure what to make of the finery in front of him. Or the extra set of eyes staring back at him with anticipation in the mirror. He could see his mouth trying to form words unsuccessfully not unlike a freshly caught fish.

“What do you think, Jack?” A pair of arms joined the extra set of eyes and draped themselves over his shoulders holding up a tweed waistcoat. “I’ve never known you to want for an opinion.”

He closed his mouth hoping the concern he was feeling didn’t set between his eyebrows. “I don’t know, Miss Medda. I’m not sure as I should be taking these.” She answered with an indulgent smile and set down the vest for a necktie, turning up his collar to begin tieing it.

“Might as well put them to good use. Floyd got married and moved upstate with his new family. He won’t be needing his uniform anytime soon.” The table beside him dominated the small dressing room. It was resplendent with several dress shirts, simple but well-made coats and trousers, and a few other useful accessories. He had spent the last quarter hour like a mannequin testing the fit of everything on the table.

Everything the world told him an upstanding member of society should wear.

“It’s resigned to collecting dust in the costume trunks if you don’t take them off my hands,” she said embodying a pointed reasonability. Jack doubted the recent departure of one of Medda’s ushers resulted in such a bumper crop of men’s clothing, especially considering the bolts of matching fabric that were hastily hidden in the corner.

“ _Drehen Sie um._ ” Jack looked down at the diminutive woman holding straight pins in her mouth, marking a new hem to his pant leg.

“What she say?”

“ _Drehen Sie sich um, mein Bengel._ ” Without looking up she stabbed the cloth with a pin and started twisting her other hand in the air.

“Oh. Sorry, ma’am.” Taking the hint he dutifully presented his other leg for the sempstress.

“Miss Medda, this is all fine and good but I’m not sure…” Jack started fumbling around for the best way to both thank her and refuse. The clothes felt confining despite being tailored specifically for his frame. He had never been one for accepting charity even though he had done his fair share of providing it. The weight of a new job was pulling on his shoulders where the coat foisted upon him wasn’t. “I’m not sure I can accept all this.”

Medda snatched a hat off the table, decidedly not his own newsboy’s cap, and smacked him soundly on the head before placing the hat there. “I’ll not hear it, Jack,” she began, punctuating it with a poke to his chest. “You know you’re like my own...nephew, of course.” She replaced her irritation with a chuckle. “We both know I’m far too young to have a boy of my own your age.”

“Oh, but of course,” Jack concurred somberly. He deftly ignored the slight wheezing that may have been laughter from somewhere around his knee. “You sure you ain’t needing these for one of your productions?”

“You’ve seen my audiences. They appreciate costumes with less layers, not more. And, honey? I don’t think you have the figure for a corset.”

“Who you tellin’?” he laughed despite himself. He’d never be able to show his face in any turf ever again wearing something like that. Though he thought the bowler Medda was forcing on him was a close second. His attempts to dodge the ridiculous hat got him a censorious swipe from the women with the sharp objects at his ankles. “You sure I don’t look like a circus animal in this get-up? I ain’t aimin’ to get laughed off the floor my first day.”

“Jack! Frau Baumgarten is the best in the theater district. She takes too much pride in her work to let you look less than your best.” The wizened old lady looked up at him beaming at the compliment whether or not she actually understood it. She met his frown with a gaping smile revealing that most of the pins were being held by bare gums. With an affectionate pat to his foot, she returned to her work.

“It’s not that theys don’t look good. I just…I’m not sure I’ll need them. This job. I’m not sure.” Jack let his eyes flutter shut. He hadn’t put voice to the sinking feeling that this new job wasn’t for him. Katherine’s delighted face and the excitement of the boys gave him no room to grapple with this new future set in front of him.

Everything had changed so fast. One moment he was marking time until his eighteenth birthday. Then he was a triumphant union leader making good on his charge to lead the boys as best he could. At least there he had some continuity to rely on, but now?

Gainfully employed artist wasn’t something he’d been expecting.

Crutchie was the only one to sense the conflict. Jack had sought solace in a few early evenings since the strike, searching for a chance to regain comfort in his own skin. After the first night, Crutchie would sneak to the roof with some hidden stealth and sit with him in companionable silence. His friend could probably guess what troubled him but left it to Jack to say.

He’d always thought he had so few options in life and narrow ones at that. Survival was paramount and many times it wasn’t just his own. Support his boys. Stay out of jail. Save money. Leave.

He had been grooming his successors whether they knew it or not. Trying to get them to balance their strengths to take over in his absence. As soon as he was confident Race and Crutchie could run the lodge, he’d be gone. This city did him no favors and he didn’t plan on repaying it with his life.

But that was before. Before ripped newspapers and black eyes. A movement and a purpose. New friends and better options. Auburn curls and stunning wit. Before his world was sent spinning off its axis by a glittering smile.

New Mexico had called his name in every quiet moment. Now there was just silence.

“ _Wir kümmern uns um Sie._ ” He had no idea what this Mrs. Frowbombgarden was saying but the intent was in her beatific smile. She had collected her tools and grabbed for his hand to help her to rise. Medda was busy collecting everything from the table, wrapping the clothes in paper and boxes. “Boy,” the Frau muttered in heavily accented English catching his attention again. She went about pantomiming instructions for him. Pointing at him and tugging on his pants and then pointing at the table. “Done. Later. _Lächle mein Bengel. Die Welt lächelt für Sie jetzt._ ” She patted the back of his hand and shuffled towards the door.

“Your trousers will be ready later this evening. Everything else fits well enough to take now.” They both knew that was largely on purpose and not thanks to the mythical Floyd. Medda had tied the packages into a neat bundle and was giving him a small, sad smile.

“You will take this job, my boy, and excel. It’s a gift long since owed,” she said with her eyes overbright. She reached up to smooth down his unruly hair and replace his cap to its rightful place. “You will show up for your first day and show those stuffed shirts what you’re made of. Otherwise, there won’t be enough of you left to send to Santa Fe. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Jack figured he’d give it a shot. He was in need of new suspenders anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My German is sketchy at best. I, like the seamstress, understand more of a foreign language spoken than I can speak myself. Please let me know if I'm butchering my cases. (Read: my grammar is abysmal) 
> 
> She calls him ein Bengel which is something you'd call a boy meaning lovable rascal. "Wir kümmern uns um Sie...Lächle mein Bengel. Die Welt lächelt für Sie jetzt." Roughly translates to: We'll take care of you. Smile, my dear. The world smiles for you now.
> 
> Well, that's my foray into this new fandom. Catch me on tumblr @above--the-fold. I hope you enjoy!


	2. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine understood there were consequences to her privilege but she never expected this as a result.

Katherine Pulitzer had lived her life with impunity. She was fully aware that it was a benefit of wealth that overrode society’s boundaries for her. Most women would never have the chance to dictate to life rather than have it predestined for them. She knew it was a gift and was determined not going to squander it.

It had been over a year since she struck out on her own. At sixteen she had traded a cultured upbringing and a destiny of parties on East 55th for a boarding house for modern ladies—affluent, yes, but modern just the same. She traded a cotillion for a career and never truly looked back. This independence gave her a sense of accomplishment. That and a slightly unhealthy sense of immunity from consequences. And as she fidgeted in the boarding house foyer a new self-awareness of that trait was slowly emerging. 

The autumn evening sun had given way on the street outside. Flashes of dappled lamplight began dotting the dimming room. She was caught in that brief moment at dusk where it was finally necessary to seek an alternative light source. Katherine willed herself to comply with the needs of her eyesight but sat immobilized. 

For the first time in her life, Katherine Pulitzer was truly scared. 

The ticking of the grandfather clock next to did little for her feeling of impending doom. The workday had finished not an hour ago but each second passed without sympathy. Given the knots in her stomach, she thought it was a miracle that she had gotten home at all. She had been dreading this moment for days and could easily have concocted some deadline or catastrophe that needed her attention. None of her ideas had the requisite gravitas to cancel her evening plans. 

There was a jostle at the door and a sharp crack as the door knocker was struck repeatedly. She took to her feet but the housemaid was at the door in a flash opening it to reveal one Jack Kelly.

“I got here as quickly as I could,” he broke off with a confused glance to the slight girl unwrapping his scarf and plucking his hat from his hand. “Sure. Thanks. Uh?” He gave Katherine an entreating look.

“Molly,” Katherine supplied.

“Right. Thanks, Molly.” The girl finished divesting him of his coat and dropped a quick curtsy before disappearing down the corridor into the house. Jack’s eyebrows had gotten lost somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline. “She don’t have to do that,” he whispered, pointing after her. “She know she don’t have to be doing that, right?” Katherine thought he looked charming when completely flabbergasted. Though, that could be a byproduct of regularly putting him in such a state personally. 

“Leave her be. She only wants to do her best.” Molly wouldn’t have registered Jack as anything less than a gentleman in his work attire. Though he never left behind his newsboy cap with the remains of his past. 

Katherine reached for his hand and he took it gladly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. It briefly quieted her growing panic and she turned to lead him to the parlor. Except he didn’t budge. “Alright, my girl. I’m here,” he drawled. “What was so serious that I had to be here with bells on? Ain’t it against the rules of this place for a gentleman caller to be here at this time of day with no chaperone.” He took their joined hands and twisting to bring hers to his lips briefly. He only winked in response to her impatience.

“It is and you’re not.”

Katherine physically wilted as she heard the parlor occupant announce themselves. She took a moment to garner whatever brashness she had left and presented herself in the high arched corridor leading to the boarding house’s well-appointed sitting room. Jack followed on impulse but stopped abruptly just short of entering. Hopefully others found his befuddlement as charming as she did.

The lone figure was perched in an overstuffed chair that was rendered minuscule in comparison. A commanding presence in an immaculate outfit and intimidating posture. The coloring was all different but based on Jack’s shocked stillness, he had made the connection.

“Jack Kelly, I’d like you to meet my mother.”

He turned to Katherine aware that words had been spoken but with little understanding of their meaning. She winced under the scrutiny promising herself to make it up to him somehow...that is if they both survived until morning. Shaking himself, Jack seemed to have come to and turned back to the other guest. “A pleasure, ma’am. Surely it is.” His hand had no idea what to do with itself as it tried to tip his hat to Mrs. Pulitzer only to remember Molly had absconded and lost its way somewhere near the vicinity of his shoulders.

“I do believe this is the point in the encounter where you join me in the room, rather than haunt about out there, Katherine,” the elder woman instructed. There was no mistaking Katherine’s parentage being in the same room as the stately Kate Davis Pulitzer. Her hair was ashen blond with pale eyes to match. Katherine’s ruddy complexion came from her father. Everything else was genteel Davis breeding. “Bring your gentleman friend as well.”

Katherine could practically hear the expletives bouncing around Jack’s head as she left him still immobile in the entryway to sit on an embroidered settee. He made his way to join her only to jump like a scalded cat at the look on her face. She furtively gestured for him to take the seat opposite her rather than sit together.

They sat in silence hardly breathing to the accompaniment of the popping fireplace, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Kate observed the frozen state of her company with an uptilted chin. “If you haven’t already surmised, I asked Katherine to bring you here so that I could finally meet the fabled Jack Kelly in person. I have to say, I was very curious about who it was that was causing my husband such grief.” To Jack’s credit, the unbidden squeak in response was barely audible.

“Mama had been visiting relatives during the strike and only returned recently,” she explained, nervously trying to fill the silence.

“Quite right. Between her retelling and Joseph’s ravings I was not sure whether to expect a victorious king wielding Excalibur or a demon on cloven hooves.” Kate took the chance to blatantly examine Jack clinically measuring him against her expectations. “I see now that you are just a boy.” Katherine mouthed an ‘I’m so sorry’ to her companion in response.

“That I am, ma’am,” Jack agreed with a forced gentility that didn’t fully materialize. 

“Care to recount the tale for me in your own words?”

“Mama!” Katherine groaned. “There is no need to…”

“Would you rather I skip straight to the questions about his intentions with my daughter?” Katherine pressed the bridge of her nose trying to not combust in the steadily warming room. This was a disaster. She should have never acquiesced to her mother’s wish for a ‘spontaneous’ introduction.

“Well, ma’am. My intentions are to honor your daughter for as long as she’ll see fit to have me around.” Katherine peeked through her fingers to find Jack squaring his shoulders under his mother’s scrutiny but his eyes never left her face.

“Good answer, my boy.” Two heads snapped towards the matriarch in unison. “Just what I wanted to hear. Though I wouldn’t mind hearing just how you got under my Joseph’s skin. I’m glad someone took up the charge in my absence.” A refined chuckle filled the space. A twin to Katherine’s own and one very dear to Jack. “She didn’t inherit just my good looks, Mr. Kelly. Our level of stubborn, willful—”

“Mama!”

“—disobedience is gained by inheritance alone. From what I hear you have a healthy dose yourself, Mr. Kelly.” At this point Kate was grinning wide, relishing the shock plastered on the poor boy’s face and her scandalized daughter’s. “I do believe I’ve enjoyed our little chat. We should see each other again soon.” Kate stood and adjusted herself to her full height. Jack had enough sense of decorum to rise as well.

Katherine sat there helplessly confused about the situation and watched her mother lay a gloved hand on his arm. “But for now, consider this my blessing.” A ridiculous smile exploded on Jack’s face as he beamed down at her mother. She could feel one spreading across her own.

Molly manifested herself from nowhere and announced that Mrs. Pulitzer’s carriage had arrived. Kate left Jack and Katherine to retake her long coat and hat from the waiting maid. The two were too absorbed in the moment to notice. Katherine rose to her feet pulled to Jack like a magnet. He idly brushed a curl behind her ear as they just stood there blissfully unaware.

“Jack, my dear?” Kate called from the boarding house entrance. “I do not intend to rush you but I expect to see you exit this door before my carriage departs. We Davis girls may be wild, but only just. Make it count.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't tell me that Katherine didn’t get her independence from a very good model. What better option than her mother? I read that Mrs. Kate Pulitzer was a southern lady of breeding who would later to marry an immigrant and former Union soldier. I took the liberty of painting her with an powerful streak that would have informed our dear Katherine. 
> 
> I had less editing time on this and will likely give it another once over. But with my schedule I wanted it out the door.


	3. Relocation

Davey fell into lockstep with Jack as he exited the front entrance to The World. It felt like a lifetime since the pair had been forcibly ejected from that very same door. Circumstances could change so quickly in the city.

Instead of leaving to foment social unrest they were simply running late to meet the rest of the boys at Jacobi’s. The pair religiously made the time to continue the tradition with their surrogate family. Most their brethren would converge on the establishment and idle away the early evening. Business was going so well under the new trade agreement with the newspapers that occasionally the boys would even purchase food. 

It was hard to miss Jack’s unease with his normal swaggering gait traded for a hunched clip. He was many things but subtle was not one of them. “Rough day?” Davey asked, slightly unnerved.

“It’s nothing.” His friend’s aloof persona of mystery wasn’t as laughable as it was transparent. Jack Kelly never did or felt anything in half measures. Everything about him lived just below the surface and was easy to spot if you looked in the right place. 

Davey only rolled his eyes in response. “Jack…” 

“Lot on my mind is all.” Jack didn’t moderate his speed. Davey was sure if there was something actually wrong with him, Katherine, or his new position, he’d have heard of it. He and Jack’s undoubtedly better half would have only been able to talk more often if they installed a telephone in his parent’s tenement. 

“I can see that,” Davey responded reasonably. 

Jack’s shoulders fell a bit and his pace slowed. He gave pitiable shrug without removing his hands from his pockets. “Pop Heig says he’s not going to be able to let me stay much longer.”

“The Lodge’s superintendent?” Davey asked.

Jack nodded and let his chin drop to his chest. “Sometimes they’ll let some of the older boys stay on for a bit after their eighteenth birthday until they can find a place, a job. But they’re still newsies, out there sellin’ papes. I ain’t even doin’ that.” 

Davey figured there was no time like the present. “Well that makes two of us,” he admitted, deftly avoiding eye contact as Jack he stopped mid-step. 

“What?” 

“It’s something I wanted to talk to you about. My dad found work. I get to go back to school. But not just any school. I start at the College of the City at end of next month.” 

“Oh. Well ain’t that somethin’,” Jack muttered numbly. He still hadn’t moved. 

Davey wasn’t sure what he had expected but he wasn’t surprised. Jack was even less adept at hiding his feelings when he was uncomfortable. He wore it like fur in a blizzard, tightly wrapped around his shoulders and up around to his ears. All avoidance and deflection while an internal tempest raged as he sorted himself out. 

It was only the simpler emotions that sparked an immediate response. Anger or happiness bubbled free and unchecked. However, Davey was acutely aware that things not easily labeled had a tendency to distill themselves into despair and loneliness. An isolating method to handle a world that he faced on his own since he was very young. 

“Keep moving, we’re already late,” he protested. Jack just stared at an indeterminate place on the sidewalk in response.

“Snap out of it, buddy, “ Davey begged. He leaned over to elbow Jack in the side hoping to elicit a response, of irritation or otherwise. “It’s not like I’m leaving forever. It’s just Hamilton Heights. Not Timbuktu. My friends are still here. My family too. But that’s the thing. The boarding house is mostly students but they allow young men who aren’t enrolled to rent rooms as well.” 

“How nice of them.” Jack pulled at the collar of his coat and proceeded to slump towards the deli. 

“Damn it, Jack. How our girl puts up with you is a mystery!” He regularly ascribed Katherine with the patience of Job but she’d brush it off as having Jack matched on stubbornness. She argued that it was he who had the real patience. Davey should have known better than to have ever doubted her. 

“What I’m trying to say why not come with me? We can get a reasonable flat between the two of us," he stated, trailing after Jack. "It’s a bit of a hike from the newspaper and the boys but the trolley strike is over. Hop one of those and you’re back in Lower Manhattan in no time.” 

“I ain’t aimin’ to get in the way of your studies, Dave.” 

Davey snorted. “You, my friend, are the definition of obtuse. What I’m trying to get through your thick skull is that it’s a simple solution to both our problems. We both need to find a place of our own. Splitting costs only makes sense. My mother might actually sleep at night if she knows I’m not out in the world by myself friendless and alone.” 

This was only half true. His mother had already started sleeping again since he proclaimed his impending independence. Of course, the wailing and cajoling only stopped with the aid of some stiff alcohol foist on her by his father. 

“I think this could really work well.” Davey could see the mental gymnastics going on behind Jack’s eyes but the mild grimace was less promising. He decided to take a different approach. “Look at it this way. Uptown is a sure hell of a lot closer to Katherine’s place than where you are now.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” A nefarious grin emerged from behind Jack’s upturned collar. 

They could hear the boys before they could see them as they rounded the corner to Jacobi’s. Jack slowed a bit and turned to Davey. “You sure about this?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure,” he vowed, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder for emphasis.

“I’m not sure lavender is my color.” That wasn’t a lie. 

Unexpected laughter bubbled up from his chest and Jack responded with a wide smile. “I’m enrolling, not you. And I can’t help the school colors any more than you can keep Albert from putting roaches in Finch’s shoes.” 

“The end of the world couldn’t stop that.” Jack tilted his head towards the door in question.

“I’ll be there in a second.” Davey watched as Jack strode into the din of newsies, his easy swagger back in its rightful place. A legion of boys all jostled to win the attention of their erstwhile leader when fine soprano emerged from the fray. 

Katherine rushed over nearly barreling into Davey as she scrambled to lock their elbows. “Well?” she demanded, “What did he say?” 

Davy plastered his face with his best attempt at somber dejection. “I’m sorry, my girl.” He could feel her still where she stood. “We’re going to have to band together because Jack’s now both our problem.” Katherine squealed, shoving him and flailing simultaneously. She quickly recovered as she realized she was drawing the attention of the other boys as they scrambled for the door in unison. 

“Life is about to get truly interesting, Jacobs,” she admitted.

The pair was last to get to the entrance. Davey stood aside and held the door for his beaming companion. The squawking laughter and commotion of twenty-some kids rolled outside and into the street. He couldn’t help but let a smile to match Katherine’s bloom. In that moment, surrounded by his family of choice, his brothers-in-arms, he felt a new kind of peace. 

“I’m counting on it, Plumber.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Davey action!
> 
> So the lodge wasn't the turn-of-the-century frat house that it's made out to be. It was run by a charity and Newsies paid a nominal fee to stay. They were provided some basic necessities and were minded by the Superintendent and his wife. "Pop" and "Mother Heig" were the adult minders of the News Boys' Lodge during the 1899 strike. They were respected and well-loved by the boys under their care. 
> 
> College of the City of New York is what we now call City College of New York (part of CUNY). It was free to those who were able to get in, independent of their station, when most places only let in the sons of elite families. Our boy would be a shoo-in. 
> 
> Jack, Katherine, and Davey are my Golden Trio. Complementary and inseparable. Fight me.


End file.
